Install theme

ana

a-shape-changer-in-winter:

Sometimes you get in a poem and you don’t want to leave it. Not for some silly reason. No, you cannot live in a poem. Surely not. But you can live in the space it creates in yourself. You can live in that soft-cloud of newfound awareness. You can live in the anger it inspires, and the joy. You can live in the generosity, the permission, the allowance. You can live in the fact of being reminded. I live in that all of the time. I have to be reminded to live there, but I do. Which means I don’t always, but then I am reminded, and I do. I am so often reminded to remember, to see, to wonder. I am reminded to rage, to laugh, to put LOL into a poem, to compare myself to a vampire, to think about the snow. I am reminded that I am made of stars, yes, and I am also reminded that that’s fucking cool. I am reminded of these things by poems, and so I don’t want to leave them, because I don’t want to be in a space when I need such reminders, even though — as poems so often remind me — I know I will be, at least eventually.ALT

Devin Kelly on Ana Božičević’s “I Feel Like”

lurker-no-more:

Love this. 💜

image

(from New Life by Ana Božičević)

lifeinpoetry:

Once I held love as a thing
And then it came
Alive in my hands, it
Bit, flowed like water…

— Ana Božičević, from “I Stood Outside…” published in b l u s h

harsh-repose:

“Who’s That” by Ana Božičević, read by James Marsters.

An additional reading by the original author can be found here.

chriscyr:

Drawcember Cryptid
28 - Fresno Nightcrawler

“You’re kidding. It costs how much these days?”
The rabbit nodded its head slowly and spoke in soft murmurs and squeaks to the pair of interlopers.
“That’s a departure from what the timeline prediction assessment outlined. We will have to make corrections. Thank you for your continued service.” They left the rabbit there, and gracefully walked into a different era.

samsketchbook:

mmmmMMmmMmMmmmm no man can know me….. 

I am Wrinkle Princess…..:3 :3 :333

my skin is so soft I roll around just to feel rumple against my sinew. .

remember when I didn’t have a body :3 :3 It was     sooo powerful but less decadennnnt ….. little wires in my plastic skull take pleasure from my feeelers to my eyes to my socks to my batteries to my pincers to my meat to my thinky thoughts…. 

documented by @her_arms_aloft

lifeinpoetry:

Everyone shivering in their
Leather jackets
Eating sandwiches named after
Serial killers
And in the middle of
All of it
Magnolia trees
Enough to make you
Stop and say

Fuck!

Super tenderly.

— Ana Božičević, “Spring 2,” published in NY Tyrant

lifeinpoetry:

Is it programmatic
Or morally basic to say
There’s a fucked up glow
Inside me my friends
Don’t really seem
To understand

[…]

Everyone I ever failed
Come to forgive me
For what I wish
They could help me

With.

— Ana Božičević, from “Depression,” published in Brooklyn Rail

visual-poetry:

»sweethearts« by emmett williams, digitalized by mindy seu:

http://www.sweetheartsweetheart.com

[via mind-seu]

dagny-hashtaggart:

A rough-and-tumble elderly Eastern European lesbian, or “babutchka”

lifeinpoetry:

“I’m writing a novel (I think) in which the things that in this century are called bipolar immigrant lesbian are actual superpowers Raise your crazy hand if you’ve imagined how in another time you’d be a witch a shaman! or just another migrant locked up & labored into fine mist”

— Ana Božičević, from “Busted Xmas Card,” Joy of Missing Out

everythingstarstuff:

https://www.instagram.com/indg0

pigmenting:

“If you’re not love Then you’re Not my light, I’ll be the light.”

— ANA BOZIČEVIĆ, from “15-1 On Light“ published in Big Lucks

pigmenting:

“I’ve seen wondrous things but Never like When you come Into a room and light Shines thru”

— ANA BOZIČEVIĆ, from “15-1 On Light“ published in Big Lucks